


Lexcapades

by Ishipbadasschicks (Awal)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluffy, Smut, fjrot, thirsty clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 10:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6281380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awal/pseuds/Ishipbadasschicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa finds Clarke training.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lexcapades

Lexa steps out of the darkness slowly and the shadows shift and melt into her silhouette. She is tall, lean. The curve of her hips stands out, accentuated by the sliver of light visible through her legs.

The heat of Lexa’s gaze is penetrating and Clarke feels her tension shift immediately. 

“Hey” Clarke says when she is sure Lexa is close enough to hear. 

“I thought you might be here,” Lexa says softly. 

“You thought right.” 

Clarke retrieves her daggers from the chunk of wood and holsters them to her ankles. Their fingers find each other, threading together as they shift positions so their shoulders brush as they walk. 

They exit the training grounds and take a shortcut through the adjacent block of trading stands.“You’re going to burn out Clarke. It’s okay to rest.”

“I know. I’m just impatient.”

Lexa huffs a small laugh at the understatement, “Your progress is exceptional.Three days will not hinder it.” Lexa’s jaw is tense, her eyes heavy. She is concerned, Clarke realises. Probably upset she stayed out until nightfall without backup. 

Clarke tries to assuage her concern with a knowing look.“I tried relaxing. Got bored.”

No need to mention that she’d expected Lexa to be in meetings until late in the night, she didn’t want her to feel guilty for leaving her alone to attend to business. 

Usually Clarke would be reading by now or hell, sitting in on meetings. But without her daily training she had too much pent up energy, and she couldn’t sit still. 

Clarke tugs Lexas hand and pulls her into the nearby alley, “So I was thinking--“

Their eyes touch as Clarke gracefully leans her back against the smooth stone. Before she can finish her sentence Lexa's kissing her, cool lips brushing against hers softly, teasingly. 

Lexa’s fingers follow the contours of Clarke’s face. The curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw, the indentation between her chin and bottom lip.

“Lexa,” Clarke whines, twisting in her grasp. 

Lexa is such a fucking romantic that her every touch is worshipful. She was concerned for her safety and now she’s assuring herself that Clarke is okay with the patience of a monk. She continues her exploration at a leisurely pace. Her hands follow the swell of Clarke's hips to the curve of her waist and across the tightness of her stomach. 

Clarke removes the hands clutching Lexa’s waist and uses her strength to pull Lexa’s face into hers firmly. Clarke bites at her bottom lip before sinking her tongue into the other womans mouth. 

Clarke arches against her, wrapping her arms around Lexa’s neck and pressing bodily into her. She rubs her nipples against her chest, rocks her center into Lexa’s thigh, and returns the pressure with a thigh wedged between Lexa’s legs as well.

Lexa's body trembles against her, a breathy moan rolling from her stomach to her chest.

Clarke’s response is immediate, moisture soaks her panties.

Clarke thinks she should always know when it starts and sometimes she does. Sometimes it’s so sudden that it hurts. Sharp pain like glass shards in the pit of her stomach, and before she can frown completely or fold her hand over her abdomen she can tell that her thighs are slippery. 

Sometimes it’s slower, from gentle caresses and slow kisses, and sometimes she thinks that she was never un-aroused, because all Lexa has to do is look at her, or say her name, and she’s wet.

Clarke’s a teenager, so the stirrings of these feelings are pretty much constant, but Lexa is _Lexa_. So she gets wet imagining all the things she wants to do. And when Lexa's touching her it’s so overwhelming because Clarke has the freedom to do all of those things.

Clarke’s breath pants into Lexa’s mouth. Their kisses losing finess until it’s just Lexa sucking gently on her lips.

Lexa’s fingers slide wetly inside of her, and her lipstongueteeth move to Clarke’s jaw and neck.

Clarke digs her hands under Lexa’s shirt and she caresses all the bare skin that she can reach.  
She strokes her back and her sides, her stomach and wiggles her fingers under the tight edge of her pants before she gives up and just falls into Lexa. 

Clarke can’t open her eyes, can’t close her mouth, and behind her eyelids the sounds form pictures of wet suction and heated flesh, panting, moaning, and sticky fluid.  
She wants to be in a room contorted in a blur of limbs in an array of positions, and she groans with the need to test Lexa’s flexibility and stamina.

Clarke pushes into Lexa harder, and moans loudly when the fingers dipping inside of her slip deeper. She wants Lexa’s teeth to nip more insistently, her fingers to pump harder, faster. She wants to be marked, claimed. 

Something is uncoiling inside of her and there’s a sob stuck in her throat. She is lost inside of Lexa and when Clarke is sure that what she wants is the soft warmth of Lexa’s tongue on her clit, it’s sobering to remember that they’re standing in an alley.

But then Lexa's hitting all of her spots, her finger curves inside of her, her palm rough on her clit, and her teeth bare down on her neck-- and fuck, she groans her name.

Clarke’s body tightens up, her thighs harden, and she’s moaning her release, trembling in Lexa’s grasp, flooding Lexa’s hand with wetness.

Lexa strokes shallowly into her, panting into her neck and god Clarke doesn’t want to stop. 

Lexa shifts so she can support Clarke’s weight for a few moments as she recovers. 

Clarke can feel the points of Lexa’s nipples pressing into her, and her stomach jumps with renewed arousal.

Clarke catches her breath and wonders for the first time where Lexa’s guards are, if they had the decency to give them privacy or if they watched the entire exchange. 

Clarke is slightly mortified to find that she throbs with the thought that they may have been watched. 

“Let’s go.” Clarke says roughly. 

Clarke’s thoughts turn to the firm softness of Lexa’s bare skin, to the exact amount of pressure she has to exert to make Lexa shudder and make those sweet quivering moans. 

The strength it takes to hold her down when she flips them and splays Lexa’s center with the thickness of her tongue… 

The tower is several blocks away, and their bedroom is ever further.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: iShipBadAssChicks


End file.
